


Heaven's Most Terrifying Weapon

by Sannah



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:37:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sannah/pseuds/Sannah
Summary: As every SPN fan knows, the archangels are four of the most powerful characters of the show. You could say all of them are loved (though it’s debatable for most of them). This story is a series of one shots of why they are liked/loved by the fandom (or me).





	1. I'm Not Like You

**Author's Note:**

> Italics is Sam and bold is Lucifer

   Lucifer stands alone in the cemetery, fixing the leather jacket Sam refused to let go. He rolls his shoulders, flexing his wings to smooth out rumbled feathers as he waits for the other archangel.  _ They're going to get worse if you keep on doing that. _ Lucifer brushes aside Sam's comment as he pushes the human soul deep down and into a section of his grace, the sound of wings come from behind him causing Lucifer to turn, finding Michael in some random vessel standing there.

   “It's good to see you, Michael.”  _ Are you really?  _ Michael nods, squaring his shoulders as he straightens up.

   “You too. It's been too long.” He pauses, wings settling into a relaxed fighting stance. “Can you believe it's finally here?”

   Lucifer shakes his head. “No. Not really.”

   “Are you ready?” Michael asks, giving the younger archangel a searching look.

   “As I'll ever be.” A sigh passes his lips as the stubborn soul he buried deep inside his grace squirms closer to the surface. “A part of me wishes we didn't have to do this.

   “Yeah.” Michael agrees, nodding. “Me too.”

   “Then why are we?”  _ Are you really going to ask him that?  _ **Keep quiet, Sam.**

   “Oh, you know why! I have no choice, after what you did.”

   “What I did? What if it's not my fault?”

   “What is that supposed to mean?” _Yes, Luce, what is that suppose to mean?_ **Luce?**

   “Think about it. Dad made everything.”  _ Blame Dean. He usually shortens long and/or unusual names. _ **Who even uses ‘and/or?’** “Which means he made me who I am! God wanted the Devil.”

   Michael scoffs.  _ I'd never thought I'd see an archangel with a stick so far up his ass do that.  _ “So?”

   “So why? And why make us fight? I just can't figure out the point.”

   “What's your point?”

   “We're going to kill each other.” A dark look crosses the younger archangel’s face. “And for what? One of Dad's tests. And we don't even know the answer. We're brothers. Let's just walk off the chessboard.”

   “I'm sorry. I-I can't do that. I'm a good son, and I have my orders.”

   “But you don't have to follow them.”

   “What, you think I'm gonna rebel? Now? I'm not like you.”

   “Please, Michael…”

   “You know, you haven't changed a bit, little brother. Always blaming everybody but yourself. We were together. We were happy. But you betrayed me – all of us – and you made our father leave.”

   “No one makes Dad do anything. He is doing this to us.”

   “You're a monster, Lucifer. And I have to kill you.”

   “If that's the way it's got to be... Then I'd like to see you try.”

   Sighing, Lucifer reluctantly starts to circle his older brother.

 


	2. You Forsook Me

   Sam pushes Lucifer into the chair opposite Chuck, giving the fallen archangel a dark look to keep him sitting there. The tall man sits on the nearby steps leading to the telescope, making himself smaller than he appears. “One of you is gonna have to, uh, go first. You know what? Lucifer, you agreed to have a sit down if God would show, so...”

   Dean simply rolls his eyes, nodding to Chuck as he sits beside his brother. “And Chuck, you did say you’d talk.”

   “Him first.” Lucifer forces out, crossing his arms as he leans back in the chair. “I’m the one who’s owed an explanation.”

   Chuck lets out an aggravated little sigh, giving his second oldest son a long look as he says nothing.

   Dean groans, shaking his head. “Okay, let’s try ‘I feel’ statements. Doctor Phil.” He says the last part to Sam, who shrugs in response. “Eh?”

   “Ah, yeah. Of course.” They shift awkwardly on the steps, going quiet as they stare at the old beings before them.

   “I am… sorry?” Chuck starts, “that you feel that I betrayed you. That I acted without cause.”  Lucifer simply shakes his head. “I’m sorry that you can’t see you gave me no choice.” He turns to Sam and Dean. “I’m good.”

   “You heard that, right?” Lucifer asks, a scowl on his face.

   “We all know that you are God, but maybe could you be a little less ‘Lordly’?”

   Chuck frowns, confused. “But I am… I am the Lord.”

   “Wow. There he goes.” Lucifer rolls his eyes.

   “I did what I had to do!” _Broken feathers float slowly to the ground, falling listly through the air._ “To create the world, I had to lock Amara away. And when the Mark corrupted you,” _blue-silver grace rots away, growing darker and darker by the day,_ “and I saw you posed a threat to humankind, I did the same with you.”

   “No, you betrayed me.” _"Father, please! Please help me!” The young archangel looks fearfully at the Mark on his scaly arm, curled up on the ground in front of his father's throne room._ “You gave me the Mark to lock her away, and when it changed me… when it did what the Mark inevitably does... you threw me away.” _He shakes the bars, the cage barely trembling as he throws his weight against the grace made barrier again and again. Why? Why is he doing this?_

   “No, son. The Mark…” Chuck pauses, grey blue eyes falling to the floor. “You always cast a jaundiced glance at humans.” _“Don't step on that fish.” The youngest archangel tells the small blue-eyed angel, causing Lucifer to scowl as he watches on. “Great plans for that fish.”_ “The Mark didn’t change you. It just made you more of what you already were.”

   “What I was, was your son.” _“Don't make me do this, Father. Don't make me put the brother I raised down like a dog.”_ “Your child.”

   “Why should I put you first above all others?” _He closes the eyes of the fallen archangel, tears falling into the ashes of his wings, though his weren't the only ones to mark the ashes. Lucifer's own tears had washed away the edges of one of the larger wings and Kali's had pressed down the ashes near his shoulder, her weight rumbling his clothes. He always had a soft spot for Gabriel._

   “You have any idea what it’s like to argue with your father when your father is God?” He turns to his father, another scowl (though darker) on his face. _“You have to do this, Michael. It'll hurt, but it needs to be done.”_ “Everything is a tautology with you. Everything is, ‘Because I told you so.’ Everything’s, ‘It had to be done.’”

   Dean scoffs. “Pretty sure that’s all fathers.” Sam clears his throat in a warning but gets waved off.

   Lucifer straightens up in his chair. “Okay, fine. Big picture, as God. You did what you had to do. But little picture? You sucked at being a dad.”

   “Okay, maybe I didn’t handle everything perfectly. But tell me: could I have kept humankind safe with you on the board?” Lucifer narrows his eyes, saying nothing as he stares at the ‘man’ before him. “I know about your little bid to replace me with the angels. Okay, ‘New God,’ what would you have done about you?”

   “That is not the point.”

   Sam coughs a bit. “I-I can’t believe I’m actually about to say this, but… um. Lucifer is right.” He quickly continues when Chuck turns to look at him. “All he wants is an apology, and you’re too concerned about being right to give him one. But apologies aren’t always about being right. Sometimes they’re just about apologizing.”

   Dean nods along. “Yeah, and the great thing about apologies is you don’t even have to mean ‘em. Y’know, I lie and tell Sam I’m sorry all the time.” Getting a look from the younger brother, he mutters a ‘sorry’ under his breath and brightens. “See? That’s. Heh.”

   “Enough from the peanut gallery.” Chuck waves his hand and the two brothers are deposited somewhere else in the bunker. “What? What would you have done?”

   Lucifer shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. You are my father and you forsook me.”

   His head bows, grey blue eyes falling to the ground. “I did. I was supposed to love all creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites. But you… You were mine.” _You were my brightest creation_ was left unsaid. “I gave you the Mark because I loved you the most, because I thought you were strong enough to bear it.” _As it is in heaven, so it must be on Earth._ “And when I saw that I was wrong… When I watched my choice devour my most cherished son, I hated myself, and so I punished you. And I am so sorry.”


	3. He's Dead, Castiel

   Driving up to a house, Dean glances at the angel sitting in the passenger seat. “Well that's a day I'll never get back.” Soon enough, they get out of the car, Castiel leading the way as they enter the house.

   Castiel freezes, holding a hand up to the human behind him as he tenses. “Dean, wait.”

   Donnie is already standing inside the cabin, back flaring with lightning in the shape of wings. Castiel can clearly see that Raphael now resides inside the human. The many light bulbs shatter around him, breaking from the large influx of the archangel’s grace.

   “Castiel.” Raphael simply states, nodding to the seraph he probably doesn’t feel like he deserves.

   “Raphael.” He bows his head, eyes not leaving the archangel’s cold stare. Castiel walks forward, Dean following close behind him.

   “And I thought you were supposed to be impressive.” _They're absolute._ Dean scoffs at the thought that intrudes into his mind, looking around. “All you do is blackout the room.”

   “And the Eastern Seaboard.” He shrugs as lightning flashes outside. “It is a testament to my unending mercy that I do not smite you here and now.” _Heaven's most terrifying weapon._

   “Or maybe you're full of crap.” Dean quips, giving Raphael a long once over. “Maybe you're afraid God will bring Cas back to life again and smite you and your candy-ass skirt. By the way, hi, I'm Dean.”

   Raphael rolls his eyes, stepping forward. “I know who you are, _boy._ And now, thanks to him, I know right where you are.”

   “You won't kill him.” Castiel steps in, moving between the archangel and human. “You wouldn't _dare.”_

   “But I will take him to Michael.”

   “Well then.” Another dark look is shot towards the archangel. “Sounds terrifying. It does. But, uh, hate to tell you, I'm not going anywhere with you.” He opens the fridge to grab a beer.

   “Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer?”

   “Yeah, that was, that was hilarious.” Castiel shoots Dean a dark look, not finding the sarcasm funny.

   “Well, he doesn't have anything close to my imagination.”

   “Yeah? I bet you didn't imagine one thing.”

   “What?”

   “We knew you were coming, you stupid son of a bitch.” Dean flicks open his lighter and lights it, dropping it to the ground. As soon as it does, a circle of holy oil ignites around Raphael.

   “Don't look at me, it was his idea.” Dean points to Castiel, sliding away from him.

   “Where is He?”

   “God?” Raphael asks. “Didn't you hear? He's dead, Castiel. Dead.”


	4. I Want It To Be Over!

   The Trickster claps before letting his hands fall. “Well played, boys. Well played. Where'd you get the holy oil?” Dean smirked, looking over to Sam.

   “Well, you might say we pulled it out of Sam's ass.” Sam scoffs, shooting a glare at the older Winchester.

   “Where'd I screw up?” He raises an eyebrow, moving towards the center of the circle.

   “You didn't.” Sam replies, stepping closer to the captured angel. “Nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did.” 

   “Mostly it was the way you talked about Armageddon.” Dean continues.

   “Meaning?”

   “Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family.” He glances at Sam.

   “So which one are you?” Sam asks, not noticing the look. “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?”

   “Gabriel, okay?” A heated look is shot towards the pair of hunters. “They call me Gabriel.”

   “Gabriel? The archangel?” Saying Sam was shocked is an understatement.  _ Archangels  _ are  _ heaven's most terrifying weapon. _

   “Guilty.”

   “Okay, Gabriel.” A frown crosses Dean's face. “How does an archangel become a trickster?”

   “My own private witness protection.” The archangel explains. “I skipped out of heaven, had a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world. Till you two screwed it all up.”

   “What did Daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?” It was a simple question, really. Sam didn't have to shoot a glare at him.

   “Daddy doesn't say anything about anything.”

   “Then what happened?” Sam asks, a frown on his face. “Why'd you ditch?”

   “Do you blame him? I mean, his brothers are heavyweight douche nozzles.”

   “Shut your cakehole.” Gabriel bites out. “You don't know anything about my family. I love my father, my brothers. Love them. But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it! Okay? So I left. And now it's happening all over again.”

   “Then help us stop it.”

   “It can't be stopped.” The archangel looks down, defeated.

   “You wanna see the end of the world?”

   “I want it to be over!” Gabriel yells. “I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you two! Heaven, hell, I don't care who wins, I just want it to be over.”

   “It doesn't have to be like that. There has to be some way to, to pull the plug.” Gabriel laughs at the look on the tall hunter’s face.

   “You do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you'd be able to relate.”

   “What are you talking about?” The confusion in Sam’s face causes the archangel to roll his eyes.

   “You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other.”

   “What the hell are you saying?”

   “Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always.” The room pauses, Sam and Dean giving each other a long look.

   “No.” Dean states, trying to convince both himself and the others in the room. “That's not gonna happen.”

   “I'm sorry. But it is.” His sigh fills the room. “Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow… but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be. So. Boys. Now what? We stare at each other for the rest of eternity?”

   “Well, first of all, you're gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.”

   “Oh am I.”  _ How can archangels sound so human? _

   “Yeah. Or we're going to dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.” With a snap, Castiel appears next to the door.

   “Cas, you okay?” Dean asks, worry in his voice.

   “I'm fine. Hello, Gabriel.”

   “Hey, bro. How's the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful.” Ignoring the glare he gets, he crosses his arms.

   “Okay, we're out of here. Come on, Sam.” Heading to the door, he partially ignores the calls behind him.

   “Uh. Okay. Guys? So, so what? Huh? You're just gonna, you're gonna leave me here forever?” By now, the trio are by the door when Dean stops and turns back.

   “No. We're not, 'cause we don't screw with people the way you do. And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.” Pulling the fire alarm, the sprinklers go off.

   “Don't say I never did anything for you.”

   Glaring, Gabriel watches Team Free Will leave. Castiel looks back for a moment before leaving. The fire goes out; somehow not spreading the grease fire.


End file.
